Conquerer Of The Night Poem by Airda Jones

They call you a thief
A mischeivous man of the night
A conquerer of the dark
Rumors have their credit to be right

They call you poor
So low in riches and gold
Yet so wealthy in esteem and charm
Or so I am told

They call you blackhearted
That lie I will not defend
For a heart so humble and
A sword that fights for the friend

They call you an outlaw
On who will not abide by the rules
A rebel among the crowd
But you have stolen more hearts than jewels

They call you a prince
With no crown and no throne
They call you many names
But I call you my own.